Inadvertent Beginnings
by Phoenix Fallen
Summary: When Bobby and Alex find the box in Collective, an interesting conversation begins...


Disclaimer: This story is for entertainment purposes only

No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made.

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"It's big enough for two…"

Bobby's voice trails off as we both digest the meaning of his words. I don't know what _he's_ thinking, but my brain immediately flies into the gutter. My eyes slide over to his, then dart away as they meet. My inner devil pops up and taps on my shoulder, and I suddenly find myself speaking.

"Yeah, but is it tall enough?"

I instantly blush an unflattering shade of crimson as Bobby whips his head around to look at me. Stuttering and stammering, I try to make my comment innocent.

"I mean, is it tall enough to accommodate for people of, uh, different heights? When they are, um, performing, uh, certain acts?"

I definitely dug myself deeper into _that_ hole. Bobby is still staring at me as though I've grown another head. He's also blushing a little, which makes me feel a little less awkward about the whole situation, emphasis on _little_.

"I think that the depth of the box allows for certain contortions that are necessary to, uh, perform such acts."

Bobby blurts out his observation, his voice cracking a bit as he says "perform." I can tell he's getting uncomfortable, because he's started to fidget with his leather binder and tap his left foot on the ground.

"Bobby, I…"

I start to speak, fumbling for words to try to break the tension, but he cuts me off.

"I have a hard time understanding erotic asphyxiation. I know the science behind the sensation, but it just seems…weird."

I laugh, grateful for his musing.

"Bobby, it _is_ weird. There are so many other ways to…well, it's just really weird."

"Which way do you like?"

Tension's back. Damn it, Bobby, you can't just ask questions like that. The closest we get to talking about sex is that time I asked you if you were pro-choice or pro-life. You _don't_ get to ask what my favorite sex act is!

"S and M."

Apparently my brain and my mouth aren't communicating, because if they were, that lovely little gem would never have popped out. I'm going to blame this entire conversation on sexual frustration and pent-up sexual energy.

Bobby is looking at me curiously – he either didn't expect me to answer the question, or at least not in that way. It's flattering to know I've really piqued his interest; I'll take attention from Bobby any way I can get it. But I'm still embarrassed beyond belief that the phrase "S and M" came out of my mouth in his presence.

"Can I ask you something, Alex?"

The use of my first name throws me, and I laugh a little.

"Sure, Bobby, why not?"

"Why do you like it?" He pauses before saying, "Um, if that's too personal…"

"I know if I don't tell you now, you'll be curious about it forever. And that'll just make you twitch even more than you do now."

He smiles as I finish with a laugh, and I know that he's reassured. He knows he's crossed a line with his questioning, but he also knows that I'm okay with it. We'll just sort of ad lib it from here.

"You know just as well as I do how hard this job is. How you just go numb after awhile. Because if you don't, you lose your mind. But after a while, I missed feeling, Bobby, feeling good _or_ bad. I just wanted to know that I could still have pain and pleasure. So when a date asked if I wanted to experiment, I said I did. Because I _did_. He tied me up, he took control, and he hurt me. I had bruises and sore muscles the next day and a band-aid on my inner thigh where he'd bitten me so hard that I bled. I'd never had sex like that before, Bobby, the kind of sex that had me begging for mercy a split second before I was begging for more. It's so clichéd, but it's true – it made me feel alive. And I haven't had sex like that since that night, and the anticipation has built up to the breaking point. I need to feel that again."

I'm breathing hard when I finish speaking, and the heat in my cheeks is intense. Bobby's pupils have dilated to an enormous size and there is an audible noise in the room when he swallows, his hands completely still.

"I hope you can find that again."

I blink and return to Earth when he speaks.

"Huh?"

"You deserve that kind of pleasure, Alex. And I don't think any differently about you now that you've told me. It's really…sexy."

I'm amazed that my jaw didn't hit the floor after hearing that. Bobby has never made _any_ indication that he sees me as a woman. Obviously, he knows, but he also understands how much I want to be treated like a Detective, First Grade, and not like a female who happens to be a cop. I've never caught him staring at me when the stifling New York City summers force me into lower necklines and shorter skirts, or heard gossip that he's made comments about me while he's having drinks with the other male detectives. I never had a clue that he might view me as a sexual being, like I've viewed him for so long.

"When women are open to experimentation, when they really trust who they're with, it's sexy. It really makes me want you, Alex."

My jaw _must_ be on the floor, and I'm sure my eyeballs have popped out of my head. Amazingly, Bobby has yet to notice his slip of the tongue, and I'm left just staring at him.

"B-bobby?"

I touch his arm. The blush from my cheeks seems to flood into his as he realizes what he's said and he meets my gaze.

"It's okay, I don't mind. I like it, actually, knowing that you think it's sexy. And that you want me. It's not an unrequited feeling."

He blinks and my last statement and loses his color.

"Bobby, are you okay? Bobby? Bobby!"

I guide him the few steps to the king-sized bed in the middle of the hotel room. We sink down onto the comforter.

"I can't believe I just said that. And that you didn't slap me for saying it."

Bobby's color is back, and he even smiles at me. I laugh and turn on the bed, drawing my left leg up and bending my knee before resting it on the mattress.

"And it's not unrequited?"

"No, Bobby, it's _very_ much requited."

I smile and then turn serious as his eyes darken. They travel a course down my upper body, as though he is taking inventory of my chest, nicely displayed (I think) in a lilac cashmere v-neck. He reaches a tentative hand out and touches my waist, smoothing the soft material under his palm. I let my lids drift closed and the heat from his hand melts into my skin thought my sweater. Bobby's hands are still, save the absent rubbing of his thumb along my lower ribs. He is dangerously close to the underside of my breasts, and I silently will his thumb to travel upward.

"Bobby, if we start, I'm not going to want or be able to stop. So don't start something you can't finish…"

"I'm going to finish, Alex. But not until you get that pleasure."

My eyes are still closed and I realize I'm clutching the comforter in my left hand. I loosen my death grip and look at Bobby. His eyes have taken on a predatory look. I'm instantly and simultaneously aroused and frightened. Bobby would never intentionally hurt me, but he _is_ big, and I have no idea how a bondage session with him will turn out.

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Continued in Chapter 2…


End file.
